


kids

by Control_Room



Series: The W-lly Franks Twins [14]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abuse, Gen, death mention, drinking mentioned, implied self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 19:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16143758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: A few snippets of the Franks Twins younger lives.(@random ANGST BREEDS ANGST)





	kids

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [cold hands.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16141610) by [Random_ag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag). 



Willy was as quiet as possible. Wally was as quiet as possible. Neither made a single noise as their mother yelled at them. _Smack._ Wally felt tears sting his eyes and his ears rang as his head hit against the wall after she punched his face. Again, another slap was duly registered, and he saw his twin hit the wall as well. Wally was too exhausted to feel the outrage he knew he should. Willy stifled a groan. Wally held in a moan. Willy knew Wally’s nose was bleeding. Wally knew Willy’s eye was bruised. Neither cared about their own injuries, each reaching out to grasp each other’s hand. Their mother mocked this as well.

They were four.

 

Their dad was at training, yet again. That gave their ‘beloved mother’ a month to do as she pleased. She invited people over, people with a drink that burned like fire, and white powders and leaves that they lit on fire and stung their lungs. Women who would point to the twins and ask if they could use them, men who would try to grab them, people who would come completely stripped to ‘have fun’. After these visits to their mother became more frequent, Willy grew more frightened. What if one day he and Wally weren’t fast enough? What if they wouldn’t get away in time? He found a lock that would work on their door, and with Wally, they rigged it on. Whenever their mother had guests, they locked it. Still, they hardly felt safe. Quite the opposite. Fear grew every day worse and worse. Sometimes, their mother would sweetly call one of them from their little safe haven. Willy never let Wally leave. The younger twin would always go instead of him, and when he would come back, he would simply ask Wally to look away so he could put on a shirt, wincing as the cloth rubbed against fresh burns. Wally never looked away, instead, he helped him slowly put on his shirt, asking him if next time Wally would go out. Willy would always smile waveringly and tell him, no it’s fine, he’s used to it already. Wally began to block things out. He stopped paying attention to reality, turning to books and his own mind. Willy started stealing the drugs from their mom, to use to ignore his pain. More scars began to form all over his body. Wally didn’t notice, not at first. Willy didn’t care, not for a long time.

They were eight.

 

Willy never made promises, and now Wally could see why. Because he couldn’t. Fucking. Keep. Them. He stormed into the room, where Willy was casually drinking, probably booze, out of a flask, laying on his lower bunk. Wally yanked it out of his hand, and he got up sharply, asking him what his deal was. Wally reminded him of his promise with a snarl. He was supposed to meet him at the old park. Willy’s eyes widened, but Wally’s, full of tears of anger, didn’t notice. Willy apologized hastily, but Wally called the sorries bullshit. Willy snapped and told him he was trying. Wally shouted his trying was lazy and fake, just like him. Willy denied that he was lazy, getting red in the face. Wally hit Willy and told him to stop being selfish. Willy hit Wally and told him to stop being conceited. Wally punched him and told him Timothy was a bad influence. Willy kicked him, telling him to give him back his flask. Wally refused, smacking him back, telling him to get a grip on life. Willy elbowed him, telling him he should first. Their fight got worse. Wally tackled him, Willy kneed him, they were shouting and cursing. Wally was stronger than him, and pinned him to the floor getting ready to spew more insults and curses. Then Willy tried to kick him off again, loose jean shorts hiking up to bunch by his hip, revealing his thigh. Wally suddenly froze, words sticking to his throat like hundreds of small blades. Because it all made sense. Now it did. It wasn’t that he couldn’t keep his promises. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember them through the pain of his mind, or that his mind convinced him he was too worthless to fulfil them, and punished him later. There were so many…. Willy jerked away, now pale, hands trembling as he pulled his jeans back down. Wally sat frozen on the floor but caught his brother’s wrist, bringing him to sit beside him. He asked him if he made them. Willy didn’t try to lie. He hated lying to his brother. He answered. Wally’s face broke him. Willy’s face crushed him. Wally started to cry, Willy beginning to cry in the same instant. Willy repeated a lie he told himself, and Wally told him, no, he wasn’t fine. But they’ll fix it. They’ll get through. Willy promised he’ll try. He spoke to Timothy about it for the last time in two weeks. They crashed. Wally helped him get out of the enormous amount of guilt that stemmed from it. It was getting a little better, little things at a time. They celebrated when Willy was sober, clean, and hadn’t self harmed for six months. With a small caramel cake and soda, of course.

They were thirteen.

 

Bill was their worst nightmare come true. He was much bigger and stronger than both of them together. They began hiding in their room much more often. Their mother doted on him, disgustingly so. They seemed to be in a relationship since Rupert died, and the most horrific part was the fact Bill was her son, he twin’s half brother, Timothy’s real brother. But Tim was dead and gone. Bill was alive and a walking torture chamber. Bill kept tabs on the twins, followed them, watched them, touched them -- and they hated him more and more by the second he was around. Still, he hadn’t hurt them yet. He hit them, yes, he screamed at them, yes, but he hadn’t done what he truly wanted to do to them yet. And they knew it, they knew what he wanted from them, and terror was in their veins whenever they saw him or smelt his cigar. They never left each other’s presence. They felt safer together, safer, but not safe. They were **never** safe. Then it happened.

 

“Where are my two favorite twins?!” Bill called, half past ten, knocking on their door with a pound. He easily picked the lock, slowly swinging open the door with an animalistic grin. The two were huddling in the corner of the top bunk, holding hands in a primal fear and disgust at what was to come. Bill jeered. “Come on down, you two.”

 

“Leave us fucking alone,” Willy muttered, pulling Wally closer. “Just leave us the fuck alone.”

 

“Big brother’s gotta teach you a lesson, eh?” he taunted, grabbing him by his ankle and yanking him down, head smacking on the floor roughly. He snatched Wally by the hair, pulling him off as well, despite their struggle. Willy got to his feet and head butted him, forcing him to let Wally go. Bill grasped his neck with ease, lifting him and taking off the young twin’s belt with one hand, even as he kicked his face. Wally kicked the older man’s knee, forcing him down. Willy, gasping in air, rushed away, pulling Wally with him towards the window. His own belt wrapped around his neck, choking him again. Another one, Bill’s, was tight around Wally’s neck. Willy felt tears in his eyes as Bill dragged them back. “You little fucks. It’s gonna feel so good when I tear off your clothes and fuck you both, so hard you’ll beg for me to be gentle, and I’m just gonna laugh and go harder, you hear me, you whores? Filthy fuck holes. Get ready.”

 

“Never!” Wally spat, whipping around with a kick, the belt around his throat flying out of Bill’s hand. He tore it off and flung it through the air like a whip, catching Bill’s other wrist, freeing Willy. Willy jumped to the window, kicking out the screen and ushering Wally out on their pulley system as Bill staggered to his feet. Billy smacked Willy, and the rope nearly slipped out of his hand, and he caught it in the nick of time. Bill grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to his knees fast, since Willy refused to let his brother drop. Wally screamed in terror. “Willy! No! Leave him the fuck alone! Willy, please protect yourself! Willy!”

 

“Listen to me, you piece of shit,” Bill growled in his ear, and Willy could smell his sweat. He felt like gagging. “I know your mom tells you this, but you haven’t seemed to get the message. You’re just a little cock suck. So get to it.”

 

“Fuck you!” Willy shouted, kneeing him, scrambling out the window. Bill leaned out to grab him, and his eye was greeted by the tip of an umbrella. Willy fell, landing in the bushes with only a few scratches. Wally helped him, up and they ran. They didn’t look where they went or the lights of the streets, and they nearly got hit multiple times. Every time they stopped, it was almost as though they could hear Bill screaming after them. So they kept going, until -- “Wait.”

 

“What?” Wally asked, breathless and frightened. Willy pointed at a house with the lights on, and Wally recognized it as well. They stumbled to the door. “Petunia, please, open up!”

 

“Wallace? Wilbur? What are you two doing here?” she questioned as she opened the door. Then her jaw dropped and she stared. “Holy shit… d-did Bill fucking do this?! You two look terrible!”

 

“We need help,” Willy rasped, throat red inside and out. “P-please….”

 

“C’mon, I’m taking you both to Jericho, his place is safer,” she muttered, leading them to her car. “Hop in.”

 

They didn’t need to be told twice. Wally leaned his head against Willy’s shoulder, his twin wrapping an arm around him as he forced himself not to cry. Petunia gazed at them pitifully in her mirror before starting her engine and driving to a little homely bar.

 

Jericho ushered them inside even before seeing the damage, but when he did, Willy thanked God that in his time as a bartender (still then) he never pissed Jericho off. Jericho gave them a room to stay in for as long as they needed and they thanked him and Petunia through their tears and sobs. As soon as they slipped into the room, the bell for the bar door rang, heavy and angry footsteps on the threshold.

 

“Whaddya want, Ball.” Jericho coldly demanded. “Ya knaw ya nat walcame in ma bar.”

 

“I’m here to collect my kids.”

 

“You freak!” Petunia roared. “You’re their half brother, and yet you go around fucking your own mother and try to rape your siblings!? I don’t fucking think so, not on my watch you don’t!”

 

“None of your fucking business, Tooney.”

 

“Dan’t call ‘ar that!” Jericho barked. “Gat aut af ma bar! An’ stay away fram tha twins!”

 

Bill grabbed a bottle and smashed it over the oldest sibling’s head. Petunia screamed and called the security guard, who arrested him. Bill was later sent to jail. The twins heard the entire comotion from their dimly lit room. Jericho checked on them, a bandage covering what would be a scar. They told him they were alright, and thanked him again. He examined their wounds, there were many more than just the ones from that night, and was heavily relieved none were so bad, yet he was completely appalled by the amount. Petunia wished them a goodnight and reminded them she was there for them if they needed more help. Soon they were gone. The twins were silent, sitting next to each other on a twin bed. Willy was so exhausted and drained he couldn’t even think of a pun to lighten the situation. Wally stirred first as the clock struck midnight, rising him from his melancholic stupor.

 

“Willy?”

 

“Yeah, Wally?”

 

“I love you, brother.”

 

“I love you, too, twin.”

 

“….”

 

“Bro?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Happy eighteenth, Wally.”

 

“Happy eighteenth, Willy.”

 

They both began to cry, hugging each other.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Don't You Wanna Play?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346570) by [Random_ag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_ag/pseuds/Random_ag)




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